


A Couple of Knuckleheads

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Smut, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: So, Sophie getting engaged within a few months of Kit gave me this fanfic idea. In this, Jon is ten years older than Sansa, is engaged to Ygritte, and has just found out that Sansa is engaged to Harry. Sansa is miserable, Jon is miserable, and Jon has to extract his head from his ass to make things right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tubbylita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tubbylita/gifts).



Jon Snow sat before his desk at Snow & Tarly Architects and wondered if he was coming down with the flu. Or maybe it was just indigestion. Anything else but what he knew it actually was: jealousy and heartbreak. 

He was currently staring at an Instagram post on his phone Sansa Stark had made of her hand with what looked like a two-ton diamond ring on it with the simple text: _I said yes_. He kept hoping something would pop up that said: Psych! Just kidding! 

But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

This felt like a punch to his gut despite the fact that he had just gotten engaged a few months prior to his longtime girlfriend, Ygritte. 

But...Sansa. 

Sansa, who was his best friend’s sister. Sansa, who was his friend in her own right. Sansa, whom he shared a sibling-like relationship with...sort of. One didn’t feel about their sister the way he felt about Sansa. Like he wanted to hold her and never let go. 

The problem was she was so young, ten years younger than he was and, again, his best friend’s little sister. She was just starting out in the world, making something of herself and...now...this. 

Staying away from Sansa, not pursuing anything with her was out of respect for Robb and also because he was older than she was. She needed time to play the field, figure out her life, and enjoy herself. She didn’t need him, a thirty-one year-old, who was ready to settle down and think about having kids. From the time she’d been fifteen, Jon knew that she was going to grow into a beautiful young woman. 

By the time she was seventeen she had come into her own and he felt gross every time he looked at her and wanted her. By the time she was eighteen he told himself that at least she was of age. 

And now here she was, at all of twenty-one, _engaged_. 

He’d had a feeling that Sansa had had a crush on him when she was a teenager, and he always found her beautiful, but he was no pedophile. He kept his distance, treated her like a kid sister, and in a sense, she was. But as she’d grown older, they had grown closer and over the past few years there had been something between them. Something palpable. 

Ygritte had mentioned it once after the Stark Christmas Dinner and he’d told her that Sansa was like a kid sister to him. Angrily she had told him that most brothers didn’t want to fuck their kid sisters. When Ygritte was around he kept his distance from Sansa, but when she wasn’t...well, he let them fall back into their old routine of standing pressed against each other’s sides, teasing, talking and chatting away. 

Then she’d met Harry Hardyng right around the time Jon and Ygritte moved in together. 

Jon hated Harry Hardyng from the moment he clapped eyes on him. He wasn’t good enough for Sansa. He had that wandering eye Jon didn’t trust, and he seemed like too much of a good-time Charlie. Sansa had always been determined, and currently she was in Grad school for Political Science. She wanted to be a politician just like her brother and her father. Jon knew she’d be a good one, too. She was always diplomatic and lacked the hot-headedness Robb often had. 

But, like any girl her age, she liked to have her fun. It was how she’d met Harry in the first place, at some bar in the city. Not that he could judge her for that, plenty of people met at bars. None he knew had any lasting relationship, but hey, what the hell did he know? Apparently nothing since Sansa was now bloody engaged. 

Jon put his phone down and stared at the plans of the house his company would be building, but he wasn’t seeing anything but Sansa on Harry’s arm. Sansa kissing Harry, marrying Harry, having _kids_ with Harry…

He pushed away from his desk and stood. He went to the window that overlooked a small picnic area outside amidst some maples and oaks. He jammed his hands in his pockets. _I have to get a grip_ , he thought. _I have a girlfriend - a fucking fiance - why is Sansa getting married bothering me so much? I proposed to Ygritte. I love her and want to marry her…_

_Don’t I?_

He wasn’t so sure anymore, not with how his heart physically ached at the thought of Sansa getting married. It was stupid, really. If he had doubts shouldn’t they have cropped up when he proposed? Why now?

 _Because you thought Sansa would always be available in some way,_ the little voice in his head said. 

Well, didn’t that just make him Douchey McDouche, the Mayor of DoucheBag Town? So, what, he thought Sansa would be available for an affair? For still flirting with him the way that they did? For when he figured this married for life thing wasn’t working for him and Sansa was maybe ready for him now? 

Jesus. 

But he felt it, the pain was real. 

And he had to face it.

xxxxxxxx

Sansa Stark kept looking at her finger. The rock Harry had presented her with was huge, and she thought it felt a little heavy. 

Maybe because she felt she’d pushed him into proposing after learning about Jon proposing to Ygritte. She still remembered when she got the call from her sister Ayra, who had been so excited over the engagement and thought Sansa would be, too. 

She’d been out with friends - Margaery, Jeyne, and Roslin. And when she’d learned that Jon was now officially off the market, she had burst into tears. She had also proceeded to get falling down drunk. There went any hope that maybe someday they would just get their act together and give this thing between them a try. She didn’t even know what _it_ was, she just knew that every time she and Jon were in the same room together there was a spark between them. They gravitated toward each other like moths to a flame and their conversations just flowed. They bantered like two people who had known each other all their lives, which they very nearly had, and she _felt_ something with Jon. 

She’d had a crush on him at twelve. She had longed to run her fingers through his shoulder length curly black locks, and would drool every time summer came and he walked around shirtless. Jon Snow had a body to die for. Six pack abs and strong arms…Gah! He was a hot specimen of a man. Because of Jon, she wouldn’t even look at a man that didn’t have a beard, and she definitely had a thing for curls now…

She’d fallen in love with him at fifteen and though she told herself in the years following that she was over it, she had never gotten over it at all. She dated, she had fun, but in the back of her mind she kept hoping…wishing…

She would tell herself that he felt it too, he had to. How could he not? He was always standing closer than he needed to when they were together. He was always smiling at her and teasing her, and joking with her. He had been there to help her move into her apartment and had made sure she had her TV and internet hooked up before he left, and had gone out and gotten her stuff to make breakfast in the morning. He’d also got her pepper spray just in case. 

But then he’d gone and started dating Ygritte, then asked her to move in, and then proposed. He’d fucking _proposed_. And then she had known for certain: she was in love with Jon and always would be. 

So, what did a girl do when faced with a broken heart? She convinced her boyfriend to propose to her because the idea of spending her life pining for Jon Snow felt like a definite possibility and she could not handle it. 

_So any time the pining wants to stop, it can_ , she thought. _Because I’m still pining and I’m kinda over it._

Her phone rang, jarring her out of her thoughts and she realized she’d been sitting in the parking lot of her apartment building with the car running just staring at her ring and thinking of Jon. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“So tonight for drinks at The Wall with moi, Gendry, Robb, Margaery, Jeyne, Roslin and Jon?”

Sansa blinked. It was her younger sister, Arya. “What?”

“Dude. Pay attention! Celebratory drinks tonight at The Wall. Oh! I forgot Harry among the guest list.” She laughed. “Can’t really celebrate the engagement without him, can you?”

Sansa frowned. “Well, you can…”

“But we won’t. I need to find out if Ygritte can come too…”

 _Or not_ , Sansa thought. She rubbed her forehead. “Arya, Mom and Dad are having dinner for Harry and I this weekend. I don’t really think we need to go out—”

“But I waaaannnnt toooo…” Arya whined. “Come on, San, it’ll be fun!”

Sansa sighed. “All right, all right, fine. What time do you want us there?”

“Yay! Eight.”

“I’ll see you—” But Arya hung up before Sansa could even finish. “Later,” she said anyway. 

She cut the engine and stared at her apartment building, which was really just an old Victorian house that had been turned into four units. She loved her apartment. It was homey and cozy and had character. It was spacious, too, but she knew, she just knew that Harry would want them to move into his very cold and very modern box he called an apartment in Wintertown. 

Jon wouldn’t make her move. Jon loved her apartment. He would go on about the structure of it and how sound it was every time he came over with Robb. 

Always with Robb. Never alone. It wasn’t what they did. They was always at least one other person with them. It was like some unwritten rule that they could not be alone together. They always did find each other standing together though, away from everyone else, but it was like just knowing that other people were around created that buffer just in case they attempted to step out of line. 

Getting out of her car, she gathered her things and headed up to her apartment. She figured she was the one who had to call Harry so she would – after she pre-gamed tonight with a glass of wine. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Jon did not want to be out celebrating Sansa’s engagement. And if he remembered correctly - and he did - Sansa hadn’t been there when he’d had a group take him and Ygritte out for celebratory drinks. 

But, despite how much he didn’t want to be out celebrating something he was having difficulty supporting, he wanted to see her. He felt like he _had_ to see her. If he saw her, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he would have answers. 

Answers to what he wasn’t sure of yet, but nonetheless he felt compelled to see her in the flesh. 

And when he rounded the corner at the bar to where all the tables and the pool tables were, he saw her standing and laughing with Margaery and his heart quivered in his chest. She was wearing black pants that looked painted on, and a silver sleeveless top that left her back bare. She wore her heeled black shoes and she’d left her long red hair down. 

As he drew closer to her, he saw her eyes lined with black liner and when she turned to look at him, her blue eyes made him come to a complete stop. 

Gods, she was beautiful. So fucking beautiful he couldn’t fucking stand it. She made his heart stop and his cock hard. When Sansa was around his focus became narrowed to her and only her. He couldn’t stay away from her and now wasn’t any different. He went straight toward her, smiling, and she scurried over to him, bellowing his name loudly and they hugged. 

“Sansa,” he murmured in her ear. 

“Hi, Jon,” she murmured back. She pulled back. “Where’s Ygritte?”

Well, wasn’t that just a bucket of cold water?

“She had some work to do.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She did have work to do, but he promised to come home early. Now, he fought the urge to bury his face in Sansa’s neck and breathe deep. She always smelled like honeysuckle and he just wanted to fucking _lick_ her. 

She pulled back from him and presented him with her hand. There sat the rock. “What do you think?” she asked. 

Jon didn’t want to look at it. “I saw it on Instagram. It’s beautiful.”

She waved her hand in his face. “You didn’t really look at it, though. Look at it!”

He did. His jaw clenched. “It’s nice.”

She frowned. “You okay?”

It was then that Jon noticed Sansa was a little wobbly and glassy-eyed. He furrowed his brow and looked at her in concern. “San, are _you_ okay? How much have you had?”

She laughed. “Not enough.”

What did _that_ mean?

Before he could ask, she threw her arms around him and whispered in his ear, “I’m really glad to see you. I bet you didn’t know that you’re my favorite.” And then she was pulling away and walking away from him, leaving him aching to have her back. 

Robb noticed him then and the rest of the group descended to say their hellos but Jon made sure to keep Sansa in his sights. Currently, she had joined Harry at the pool table where he was playing with some guy Jon didn’t know. She didn’t look happy about it either. 

A round was ordered and congratulations were hooted and hollered at Harry and Sansa. Harry raised his beer, but didn’t leave the pool table. Sansa came over and hugged them all one by one and Jon wondered if it was his imagination that she lingered just a tad longer than needed when she hugged him. 

When he saw her amble to the bar and tap some guy on the shoulder, Jon frowned and got up from the table where he was sitting with everyone and went to see what she was about. He was pretty sure that he and Robb were the only real sober ones there, but Robb was focused on Margaery and therefore not paying close attention to Sansa. 

“San, what are you doing?” Jon asked as he approached her. 

She looked over her shoulder at him, then looked back at the guy she’d been talking to and held up a cigarette and lighter. “Thanks,” she said to him. 

The guy, an older gentleman turned in his chair and nodded to Jon. “He the lucky guy?”

Sansa snorted. “No. My guy is playing pool in the back there,” she replied and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. She wound her arm around Jon’s shoulders. “This is Jon. He’s like my big brother.”

The guy smiled lecherously at her, showing off his yellow teeth. “I could be your big brother too if you want.”

Jon glared at him. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m teasing,” the guy said with a raspy laugh. 

“I don’t care,” Jon growled. “San, let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand, and attempted to pull her back to their table, but instead, she yanked him towards the door. 

He followed her, sighing. “When did you start smoking?”

“Tonight,” was her reply as she lit up her cigarette and then stuffed the lighter in her pants pocket. “I bummed one off him earlier.”

He watched her, wondering what the hell was going on. She wasn’t acting like herself. “What’s going on with you tonight? You’re not acting like a woman who just got engaged.”

“And how does a woman who just got engaged act?” she asked, and coughed on the smoke she inhaled. 

He frowned. “You’re smoking. And you’re drunk. You’re not...happy. Not the real kind of happy anyway. I’ve seen you real happy and this is not real happy. This is fake happy.”

The last thing Jon expected was for her to well up in tears. “What do you know?” she asked, her voice clogged with tears. 

“Hey, hey,” he said gently and took the cigarette from her. He looked at her and then at the ground. “May I?” She nodded and he dropped it to the ground and squashed it under his foot. 

Then he gathered her close and wrapped his arms around her. She cried softly into his shoulder and Jon didn’t even care that she was probably getting snot and makeup all over his black suit jacket. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s wrong? Is it Harry? Did he do something to upset you? If he did I’ll take care of him.”

“Would you really?” she asked softly. 

“In a heartbeat,” he whispered. 

“Why do you care?” she asked and buried her face in his neck. 

Jon shivered at the feel of her hot breath on his skin. He held her tighter. He was holding her and sure enough, he didn’t want to ever let go. “Because you’re my favorite, too,” he murmured. 

“Before or after Ygritte?”

His heart started to pound. There was the truth, and then there was the lie. And he’d just realized which was which. He went with the lie. “Well, Ygritte is my fiancé—”

Sansa pushed out of his arms and shook her head. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “You break my heart. And you do it again and again and I just keep letting you.”

Jon froze. He stared at her, his brain slowly working out what she was saying and what it meant. 

“I’ve been in love with you since….since I didn’t think boys had cooties anymore. I tried everything to get you to notice me.”

“I did notice you,” he croaked. 

“You know what I am? I’m fucking stupid. I always thought there was something between us but then you went and asked Ygritte to move in, and then you went and proposed to her...I mean...what have I been doing all this time? What do I do when I realize that I’ve never really had any kind of chance with you? I put the pressure on Harry to propose. He didn’t want to. He doesn’t even want to be here tonight. _I_ don’t even want to be here tonight. You know where I want to be? At home in the tub, preferably with a toaster.”

“Sansa, don’t say things like that,” Jon admonished her sternly. 

She pointed at him. “You shut up. Because you made me feel like I was something special to you. You made me think that maybe you loved me as much as I loved you. But you don’t. You never did. I’m just your ‘little sister’. Well, fuck you. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the whole goddamn thing.”

Jon took a step toward her. “Sansa—”

“San?”

Jon looked over his shoulder at Margaery and Jeyne coming outside, their faces etched with concern. “Could you guys give us a minute?” Jon asked them tersely. 

They stopped and looked at Sansa who shook her head. “Nope, I’m done here. I want to go home. I’m completely maxed out.”

“Sansa, please, we need to talk,” Jon said urgently and tried to reach for her. She moved away from him and shook her head again. 

“Nah, I’m done.” She let out a sob that had him stepping closer and Jeyne and Margaery rushing forward. 

“I’ll get Robb and we’ll get you home,” Margaery said. “Do you want Harry to come with you?”

“No.” She forced the ring off her finger. “And I don’t want this either.”

“Okay, one step at a time,” Margaery said and took the ring from her. “Jeyne, take her to the car? I’ll get Robb. Jon, come with me.”

Jon didn’t want to go though. He wanted to stay with Sansa. He wanted to tell her she was special to him and that he...fucking goddammit...he loved her, too. 

But Margaery was like a cattle prod and pushed him forward. He glared at her and she glared back. Once back in the bar, Jon turned on her. “What the fuck, Margaery?”

“Look, I’m not exactly sure what I walked into, but I have a few guesses. Either you got your head out of your ass and told her how you feel about her or she told you how _she_ felt.”

Jon’s jaw dropped open. Did everyone know how he felt? Well before he did?

“So? Which was it?” Margaery asked impatiently. 

“She told me how she felt,” Jon said quickly. “She said I broke her heart.”

Margaery sighed. “It’s not a good time for a conversation of this magnitude. She’s drunk and emotional and needs to sleep it off. Do you agree?”

Jon nodded. “She said she wanted to take a bath with a toaster, Margaery. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“She won’t be. I’ll stay with her until she falls asleep. Or Jeyne will. Either way, she’s not your responsibility.”

Now Jon felt like crying. “I want her to be,” he croaked. 

“Then it seems to be you’ve got some shit to take care of before you talk to her. Go home, Jon.”

He nodded, feeling like the dirt on his shoes. “Tell Robb I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Will do. Goodnight, Jon.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered. 

He left, feeling as though if he was a dog, he’d have his tail between his legs.

He wasn’t drunk and he wasn’t in the mood to go home and face Ygritte so he went for a ride to clear his head instead. 

He drove and drove around Winterfell, into Wintertown...and he thought and he thought and he thought. 

He thought about the time Sansa and Robb showed up at his apartment during Christmas the first time he moved out of his mother’s house with a little tree and decorations. Robb had said it was Sansa’s idea. She’d even put the first present - for him - under it. 

He thought about the Stark Thanksgiving Dinner a year back when he and Sansa ended up on the loveseat together and made fun of Robb and what a dork he was about Margaery. 

He thought about how Sansa had once dared him to wear an N Sync t-shirt when they went to get the pizza for Stark Game Night and he had just to see her dissolve into giggles. 

He thought about her smile. Her laugh. Those blue eyes he got lost in. 

That body he wanted under him, over him...in front of him…

He thought about how he loved how smart she was, how kind she was, and how sweet and thoughtful. 

He loved her. He loved her so much he didn’t know what the fuck he’d been doing all this time. All he came up with was that he’d been dumb. So fucking dumb and thick. If everyone else had been able to see how he felt, then it stood to reason that Sansa had, too. No wonder she was upset with him. 

And now he needed to make it right.


	2. Chapter 2

It was perhaps cruel to end an engagement just days after having actually gotten engaged, and especially after you’d pressured the person into proposing. But...Sansa didn’t really care. And, she would forever remember the look of relief on Harry’s face when she did it. She ended things with him with minimal tears and really just a huge sense of a weight being lifted off her shoulders, and then she fucked off to the family cabin in White Harbor with the intention of staying there for eternity. Or just a few days. Her classes were mostly online, and there was Wifi at the cabin...which was less like a cabin and more like a house. Or, as Jon called it, a mansion. But with five Stark kids and guests often coming and going, they needed the room. 

She unpacked when she got there, went grocery shopping, and then picked up one of the books she’d stuffed in her purse and attempted to get lost in it on the overstuffed couch in the living room. 

Her wayward mind kept wandering to Jon. 

Fucking bastard. 

Now the tears came. 

She should have told him how she felt about him. Maybe that would have changed things. Granted, she knew Jon and how bent he was on honor, for the love of fuck, and he probably still wouldn’t have done anything because of Robb or her age, or some shit like that. 

Gods. She was just so angry. Angry and hurt. Mostly hurt, but it morphed into anger because who wanted to sob all the live long day when one could just, ya know, think about punching Jon in the face?

It was just… he’d went and gotten fucking engaged. After all that flirting, all that heat, all their long conversations he’d gone and asked Ygritte to move in with him and then proposed. 

Did that mean he hadn’t felt anything for her at all? Did that mean it was all in her head? Or should she have said something? Would it really have changed anything? What if it didn’t? What if he let her down like she was some kind of kid with a crush that didn’t know her own heart?

She put her book down, curled up on her side and just let herself have a good long cry. 

Three days later after only talking to her mother - and only through text - plus countless sad movies that made her sob, singing ballads about the loss of love until she was hoarse (she hit the 90s playlist _hard_ ), eating copious amounts of cookie dough, and not showering, Sansa just felt...gross. She was hopped up on sugar, was wearing her pajamas that now had countless food stains on them and her hair was a rats nest and it smelled. She was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV and contemplating a shower with a comforter wrapped around starting from the top of her head, when the doorbell rang. 

The hell?

Probably a neighbor. She hoped. The family was under strict instructions not to bother her, and everyone knew not to go against Catelyn Stark.

The doorbell rang again and then she heard _his_ voice. “San? Its me, Jon. Let me in.”

Oh God. She’d lost it. She had totally lost it. Maybe the Twinkie defense _was_ a real thing. She got up, thinking she had to make the hallucination go away. She trudged to the door and opened it, thinking that there would be nothing there. After that, she was so going to make real food. 

But, he was there. 

Looking all hot in black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. He smiled and then got a good look at her. “Whoa.”

“Shut up,” she muttered. “What are you _doing_ here? No one was supposed to bother me.”

“Well, I called off my engagement and it was really important to me that I tell you. In person.”

She stared at him, weighing his words. “You thought it important to tell me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Tell me why or you don’t get in this cabin.”

“You mean the palatial mansion?”

“You’re stalling.”

Jon raked a hand through his hair. “I’m nervous, Sansa.”

“Then you can go.” She started to shut the door, but he stopped her from closing it with his foot. 

“Because I’ve been stupid, San. I don’t know why I never asked you out when God knows I wanted to. I couldn’t begin to tell you how I got as far as I did with Ygritte when it was you I wanted all along. I think I just...settled.”

Sansa’s mouth twisted ruefully as she thought of Harry. “Yeah, I get that.”

He looked hopeful. 

“But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. You’re still a...stupid head.”

He looked amused now. “Stupid head?”

“All right, look, I haven’t eaten a real meal in three days and I don’t think I’ve had any fresh air. I’m not thinking clearly.”

“Then I am honor bound to come in and cook you a real meal. Or at least get take away.”

“Ugh. I don’t want your fecking honor, Jon. I’ve had quite enough of it. If you’re going to come in, then leave it at the door.”

He broke into a wide smile. “I can do that.”

She stepped aside. “Then you can come in.”

He came in and got up close to her. He stared down at her and then reached out and flaked something off her face. He looked at her in question.

“Probably cookie dough,” she said and pushed the door, allowing it to swing shut. She stepped back and spread the comforter as though it was a cape. “You think you can handle all this, Jon?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I think I can.”

She sighed. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself comfortable.” She started for the stairs and then turned around and pointed at him. “But not _too_ comfortable. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know, love,” he said softly. 

She shook her head, and her eyes shut briefly. “Don’t. Don’t call me such endearments. You’ll weaken me and I’m not ready to be weakened.”

“Noted. No weakening.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and then whipped around and headed upstairs to shower. It wasn’t until she got to the landing that she started to feel a bit of panic set in. 

She had to hear him out first. She couldn’t just fall into his arms because he called of his engagement even though it was because of her. If she hadn’t said something on the night of her engagement party would he ever have? Or would he have just gone through - why was she even wondering that? Of course he would have just gone through with it all. Jon wasn’t one back down from something even if it wasn’t right for him. 

She sighed. Yeah. They needed to have a long talk.

***************

While Sansa showered, Jon peered into the cabinets and fridge to see what he could make her. There wasn’t much of anything. So, he took down the take out menus from the fridge and went through them.

His hands were shaking. He set the menus down, gripped the counter, and heaved a deep breath. He needed to calm down. 

It was just...well, it had been a rough few days with ending his engagement, Ygritte moving out, and then having to tell Robb and then Ned of his intentions towards Sansa. Robb had grilled him, and Ned had let him. Not that he could blame them. He’d been a stupid head just as Sansa had said. 

He was in love with Sansa, and had been for quite a while. And she was right. His bloody honor had stopped him from pursuing her. But then he hadn’t stopped himself from getting as close to her as he could when they were together and flirting with her. He knew the thing between was real and palpable and that she had felt it too. But he’d done nothing about it. No, he’d instead gotten himself a girlfriend and then a fiance. It was no wonder Sansa was confused and upset. 

She loved him. Gods, that beautiful, sweet, intelligent young woman loved him. 

And he could have condemned them both to a lifetime of unhappiness if he hadn’t extracted his head from his ass. 

He understood her reticence though. He had almost gone the distance with Ygritte despite what he felt. And everyone else, including Sansa, had figured it out, but he had been too stupid, too blind, too stubborn. 

When she joined him after her shower, dressed in jeans and a shirt free of stains, her hair damp and left long down her back, she eyed him warily. He wanted to reach for her and pull her close. He just wanted to hold her. For now anyway. 

“Since you have nothing I can make anything with, what do you want for take away?”

“Something with vegetables and chicken.”

“How about Chinese then? The garlic chicken you always get? It’s got vegetables.”

“I also want to get a salad somewhere.”

“You can have anything you want, San.”

She smiled at him and they selected their meals. Jon called it in while she got them waters. 

“They’ll be delivering,” Jon said as he sat down at the kitchen table with her, across from her. 

“So what happened?” she asked. 

“I realized after you walked away from me that night that I had made a huge mistake.”

“Just like that?” She sounded as though she didn’t quite believe him. 

He sighed. “No, I knew...I just...I thought I was doing the right thing. You’re so young, San.”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you to leave your honor at the door.”

“I did. I’m just trying to explain.”

She waved her hand towards him. “Continue.”

“It wasn’t only your age. It was Robb and your Dad.”

“Ah, yes. Your hero worship of my father.”

“I’m older than you, Sansa. I knew your Dad and Robb would have problems with our age difference.”

“It’s ten years, not twenty.”

“Still. You haven’t even finished school yet. I have a career. I was twenty-one once. I remember how stupid I felt. How I didn’t quite have my feet under me yet.”

“And you do now considering?”

He laughed softly. “No, I don’t. You’re right. You’re more put together and have had things figured out long before I did.”

“I realize I should have maybe told you how I felt,” she said. “So it’s not all you...and my only excuse is that I was afraid. Because I know you. And your honor, and I was afraid of the rejection. I was afraid I’d push you away completely if I told you. Getting engaged to Harry wasn’t exactly my best move. I pressured him into it because you were engaged and I just...I felt like I had to hurry up and get engaged so I had a sure thing, something - _someone_ that I could forget you with.”

“It killed me when I learned you were engaged,” Jon said softly. 

“How did Ygritte take it? What did you tell her?”

“I told her I couldn’t marry her because I didn’t love her the way I should, and that I wanted her to find someone who did.” He sighed again. “She asked if it was because of you. She knew. Everyone but me knew.”

Sansa cocked her head to the side. “No, you knew, too. You were just too stuck in doing what you thought was right to consider you had a choice.”

He nodded. “You’re right,” he murmured. “She moved out. I talked to Robb and your Dad, and then I had to talk to your Mom, too. She finally told me where you were, but it took a day for her to tell me.”

“What did you tell Robb and my Dad?”

He met her gaze straight on. “I told them that I loved you, San. That I always had, and that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with someone who I had no chance of loving the way I loved you. I told them I’d been stupid and afraid, but that I couldn’t live a lie any longer. I told them I wanted to ask you to be with me.”

She looked down, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “And what if they had said no, Jon? Would you still have wanted me?”

He reached across the table and held his hand open. She started at it, and then after a long moment of deliberation that made Jon panic, she slipped her hand in his. 

“Yes,” he croaked. Sansa was surprised to find tears in his eyes. “I will always want you, and once I let myself just feel it, once I knew how much I loved you and how it would _always_ be you, nothing and no one could have stopped me from coming here and telling you.”

The both of them sat there, tears in their eyes, just staring at each other. 

And then the doorbell rang. The food was had arrived.

“To be continued,” Sansa said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Bow chicka bow wow


	3. Chapter 3

Jon and Sansa sat together at the kitchen table eating in silence. Jon watched her closely; she appeared lost in thought. 

“What is it?” he asked, unable to take her silence any longer. 

She looked up at him. “What?”

“What are you thinking?”

She put her fork down and rested her hands between her knees. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about how you love me…”

“And?”

“And it’s occurred to me that you and I have never even kissed. I mean, what if we kiss and it sucks?”

“Sansa, do you love me?”

“You know I do,” she said softly. 

“And you know now I love you. It won’t suck.” 

“But what if it does? What if we’ve built it up in our heads and then we kiss and - poof! Nothing.”

Jon dropped his fork and stood. “All right, let’s kiss right now.”

She gaped up at him. “Right now?”

He nodded. “Right now.”

She slowly got to her feet. All her courage and bravado from earlier fading. She looked at him, her blue eyes wide. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?” he asked. 

She swallowed. “This is it, Jon. I mean, yeah, we’ve said how we feel and all, but I feel like when we kiss this decides it. I mean, seriously, what if it _does_ suck and then what? Does that mean our feelings for each other go away? Does that mean that it was all in our heads this whole time and we were chasing an ideal and this thing we’d built up in our head only to have it--”

Jon stepped toward her and literally shut her up with a kiss. 

Sansa gasped into his mouth and Jon adjusted his lips on her, kissing her more fully. Her lips were soft. She tasted spicy. Her body was warm against his and then she shifted ever so slightly and he could feel her breasts pressing against him. 

Jon didn’t know about Sansa, but he felt rather...dizzy. 

But that was probably due to the blood rushing to his cock because this kiss. It didn’t suck. It was so far removed from sucking. It was a revelation. It was the best kiss he’d ever had and he hoped to hell it was hers, too. 

She broke the kiss to pant, “This doesn’t suck” and kissed him again, her lips firmer against his. 

Jon carded his hands in her silky hair, twining her locks around his fingers. He kissed her greedily, needfully. 

He was kissing Sansa Stark. 

He was. KISSING. Sansa Stark. 

And he couldn’t stop. Nor did he want to. Ever. 

She felt so fucking good in his arms. Like home. Like HOME. 

Her arms were now wrapped around him and Jon forgot all about the food that they were supposed to be eating. 

He wanted to eat her instead. 

“Wrap your arms around me,” he whispered. When she did, he bent slightly and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him and giggled. “Where are you taking me?” she asked with a breathy laugh. 

“To the living room. I want to taste you. Badly. You mind?”

She shook her head and nuzzled at his neck, causing him to groan. 

“Fuck, why did we wait so long to do that?” he asked, navigating his way carefully to the living room. He didn’t want to knock into a wall and hurt her. 

“I’m not sure,” she murmured and bit down on his earlobe. 

“Fuck me, Sansa, how could have even thought this would suck?” he groaned. “All we’ve done is kiss and I feel like I’m going out of my fucking mind.”

“Same,” she whispered. 

Finally, he reached the living room and set her down on her feet. They stared at each other, breathing hard, and then they both all but lunged at each other. They tore at each other’s clothes, years of pent up longing and need making them desperate. 

When Jon had difficulty taking her bra off, he swore. Sansa giggled and helped him. He smiled against her mouth and kissed her. Jon stood back and looked at her, his eyes roaming over her body. 

She was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her long legs, the trimmed patch of red hair between her legs, her perfect tits - a handful, maybe more - and that long neck and curvaceous waist. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he gasped. 

She looked at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “So are you.” She reached out and then stopped. “May I?”

“Fuck yes, _please_ yes, touch me,” Jon breathed and then shuddered when her hands made contact with his abs. He forgot how to breathe when she slid her hands up his chest and over his nipples. She laid her mouth in the middle of his chest and kissed him there. Jon carded his fingers in her hair and drew her head up to kiss her hungrily. 

He nudged her back to the couch and she sat down upon it and tried to pull him down with her. He braced himself on the back of the couch with his arms and then knelt down at her feet. 

With a smirk, Jon spread her legs and slid his hands over her thighs. “Your skin is so soft,” he said in wonderment. 

“Jon, I need you,” she whispered. 

“Oh, sweet girl, I need you, too,” he murmured and began leaving kissing up her thigh. He breathed in the sweet scent of her and then flicked out his tongue to taste her. He moaned and tasted her deeper, delving his tongue between her folds. 

Her hands went to his curls and he grinned when she spread her legs wider and pushed him into her cunt. “My greedy girl,” he murmured and circled her clit with his tongue again and again. 

“If I’d known what that mouth could do I would have told you how I felt a lot sooner,” she moaned. 

He laughed softly and licked at her wet slit again. When his tongue touched her clit again, she came, shouting his name and pulling his hair. 

Jon licked at her softly until she pushed him away gently. He got up, licking his lips, and she reached for him as she lay back along the couch.

Jon climbed over her, his hard cock brushing against her as he sank his knees into the couch, straddling her. He kissed her deeply and she wound her arms around him and pressed herself against him. 

She slid a hand down in between them and fondled his cock. He gasped, “Sansa,” and buried his face in her neck. 

“You don’t need protection,” she told him. “In case you were wondering.”

“I probably should have thought of that sooner, eh?” he said and looked down at her with a wince.

“Well, I did tell you to leave your honor at the door. You were just following directions. For once.”

He half laughed half groaned and drew her hand away from his cock. “I need inside you, my love.”

She nodded. “I need you inside me.”

Her legs wrapped around him and he slipped inside her, gliding into her wetness with ease. He stopped, staring down at her in awe. “Sansa,” he breathed. “Finally.”

She nodded, tearing up. “I know.”

He pulled slightly out and then lunged back inside her. “I love you so much,” he gasped. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’m never going to let you go now, Snow,.”

“I’m never going anywhere without you, Stark,” he said. He shut his eyes, holding himself inside her again. “I can’t go slow, Sansa. I want you too much.”

“Don’t go slow,” she murmured and framed his face in her hands. “Take me, Jon. Make love to me.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he moved inside her, and they couldn’t stop touching each other, their hands running over each other’s bodies, finding places that made the other moan and gasp. 

When Jon was close, he reached down between them and began to strum her clit with the pad of his thumb. Sansa arched her back, crying out as she came and Jon watched her, overcome with how glorious she was when she reached her climax. His heart felt near to bursting. 

He came with a shout, cumming deep inside her and wondered how long he had to wait before he could propose to her.

Resting against her, his body humming, and his breathing heavy, Jon shut his eyes, reveling in the feel of of her running her hand in his hair and then down his back. 

“I’m going to marry you,” he murmured. Why wait?

He lifted his head and looked down at her, wanting to see her reaction to that. She gave him a luminous smile and nodded. “You bet your ass you’re marrying me.”

He laughed softly and kissed her and soon it started all over again.


End file.
